


keep on (keeping track)

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [67]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anniversary Gifts, Demisexual Isaac, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Sex Toys, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Allison and Scott's third wedding anniversary- </p><p>(or, for the third anniversary of the day that Allison and Scott woke up to find that a coven of local Wiccans had “bound them together spiritually, psychically and emotionally”)</p><p>-Isaac buys two anniversary gifts.  The first is a set of three engagement rings that cost a pretty penny.  The second has a number of slightly confusing straps and a vibrating option.  </p><p>Picking out the gifts was easy.  Even wrapping them wasn't so bad.  But actually <i>giving</i> them? </p><p>Well, that may require more courage than he actually has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep on (keeping track)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for round two of the Polyamorous Wolf Exchange, for a dropped recipient. I tried to include as many of the prompts as possible and had a blast writing this. hopefully, it's fun to read as well! <3

On the first day of July, Isaac wakes up two hours earlier than usual, glances at the small, velvet box sitting on his bedside table and immediately knows that he won’t be able to go back to sleep. Rubbing at his eyes, he grabs the box and thumbs the lid open. An errant ray of morning sun catches the three titanium bands neatly lined up against the black cushioning inside. The metal is cool to the touch when he brushes one finger over all three of the bands, pushing until they quietly clink together.

With a sigh, he closes the box again and tosses it onto the pillow beside his head. He already has two paychecks invested in the ring set, and there’s at least two more payments to come, but he’s starting to wonder if maybe he should hold onto them a little longer, save them for some other time.

But that’s not possible. He’s been preparing himself for this for weeks, mentally psyching himself up so that he could finally go through with what he’s wanted to do since their last anniversary. 

(Or, at least, his last anniversary with Allison. His anniversary with Scott is two months removed from that date. The anniversary of the _three_ of them completely coming together is yet another date.

He never would have thought that the most complicated part of polyamory was trying to keep track of all the damn _dates_.)

But today is yet another anniversary, one that he technically isn’t involved in, but that he still feels the need to celebrate.

Today marks the three year anniversary of Scott and Allison’s wedding.

Well, even _that_ isn’t as simple as it should be. A more apt description would be that three years ago, after they'd all attended a party held by a coven of local Wiccans in the woods, Scott and Allison woke up to find themselves, in the words of one of the witches, “bound together spiritually, psychically and emotionally.”

In other words, married. 

Sure, it wasn’t exactly a legally binding proclamation, and it probably could have been brushed aside if necessary. But Allison and Scott hadn’t done that; they’d simply shrugged and gone about life as usual. The only difference was that now, when they met new people, they introduced themselves as husband and wife. 

While Isaac knows that his proposal also won’t be legally binding, it seems like as good a day as any to finally take the step that’s been thrumming in the back of his mind since he first saw the rings during a trip to the mall. 

But that’s for later. There’s another, far larger box sitting across the room on top of his dresser, haphazardly covered with the only paper he’d been able to find in the dollar store after he finished his shift last night. Just thinking about what’s inside makes his cheeks flush.

A little voice in the back of his head whispers that _maybe they won’t like either of your presents_ , but Isaac forces it to go away, or at least quiet down. He’s supposed to meet them at their place at six, and if he doesn’t show up, they’ll come to him. Either way, there’s no turning back.

He jumps out of bed, places the ring box on top of the other present, and grabs some clothes to head for the shower. His shift doesn’t start for another four hours, but lying in bed is just going to make his mind toss and turn. 

(His mind _does_ run loose when he’s in the shower, but when he turns the water down cold enough, it becomes hard to think of anything that isn’t related to getting out as quickly as possible.)

&.

His hours at the bakery seem to drag by slow as molasses. Even though the place is incredibly hectic for most of the morning, every time he takes a second between customers to wipe flour off his hands and glance up at the clock, only a few minutes have ticked by. Even his lunch break is excruciatingly slow, and while that would normally be a blessing, every minute that the clock _doesn’t_ tick closer to five seems like an hour.

“Are you nervous?” his co-worker Malia asks from their place beside him on the loading dock out behind the store. They’re the only person he’s told about proposing and they look downright gleeful. 

“Yeah,” he says, not even attempting to lie. “Honestly, this is basically the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done.” Malia simply nods and thuds him on the back between the shoulder blades, hard enough to jolt him forward. 

(They don’t know their own strength; Isaac never looks forward to hugging them, because it feels like his ribs crack every time.)

“You’ll be alright. Just don’t let them fill the house with candles. If you don’t do that, nothing will go wrong.”

“If you say so,” Isaac says, glancing down as his phone. Only ten minutes have gone by, but on the plus side, there’s a text from Allison.

_Allison, 12:06 PM: hope work goes okay. We can’t wait to see you!_

Isaac grins, quickly responds likewise, and slides his phone back into his pocket.

Only four hours and fifty minutes to go.

&.

By the time five o’clock finally comes around, it’s all Isaac can do to sit still. His stomach is churning with nerves (or maybe with too many complimentary red velvet muffins, but he’s pretty sure it’s more like sixty percent nerves and forty percent muffins), and his palms are downright sweaty. He packs up and washes off as quickly as he can, locked in a strange place between dread and excitement.

While the work day crept by at a snail’s pace, the bus ride back to his apartment is even worse. It doesn’t _look_ like traffic is any heavier than usual, but by the time he finally reaches his stop, it’s after five thirty and he’s almost _jittering._

He still has too much flour in his hair to bypass showering, so by the time he manages to do something with his hair, get dressed, leave, go back for the presents and leave _again_ , he’s already ten minutes late.

There may not be any candles in his plans, but the night isn’t exactly off to a great start.

&.

Things perk up as soon as he finally makes it to the small house Allison and Scott share on a side-street just outside the college district of town.

“Isaac!” Allison yells from the tiny porch abutting onto their postage stamp of a front yard. She jumps up from her chair and meets him at the sidewalk, bare feet automatically stepping over cracks in the concrete. “Is everything okay? We were starting to get worried.”

“Everything’s fine,” Isaac says, wrapping one arm around her waist as she steps up to hug him. “Just traffic. I think.” 

“Good.” Her head fits perfectly under his chin, and he twists his neck to kiss her temple. 

“Where’s Scott?”

“Inside, just finishing up dinner,” she says, craning up to kiss his cheek. “What’s in the bag?”

“It’s a surprise,” Isaac replies, automatically, tucking the bag around his back, even though Allison shows no sign of wanting to peek. “For after dinner. I’m starving.”

“Well, I think Scott might have cleaned out the grocery store, so don’t worry about that.” Allison loops her arm around his as they head towards the house. Even before they reach the porch, he can smell food, and his stomach growls accordingly.

“Did Lydia not give you enough free food today?” Allison teases, the tip of her tongue just barely visible between her teeth. Like always, the sight of it makes sheer fondness course through Isaac’s body. 

“Sadly, there were only two trays of muffins,” he replies solemnly, holding the front door open for her. “But Malia ate more than half of those.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Inside, the mingled smells of spices, clean perfume and some flowery candle mix together to form something almost overwhelming. Soft music and the sound of boiling water come from the kitchen, and as Isaac kicks off his shoes, a furry head bumps against the back of his shins.

“Hey Lupe,” he says, ducking down to scratch the base of the dog’s neck. The dog, a German Shepherd who still doesn’t seem to know his own size, licks at Isaac’s hand once before trotting down the hall to the kitchen. Isaac follows after him and finds Allison sitting on one of the stools circling the butcher block table in the middle of the small room. Scott is standing at the stove, holding a spoon in each hand, stirring two simmering pots simultaneously.

“Happy anniversary,” Isaac says, craning over to kiss Scott’s cheek before sitting beside Allison. The stool creaks ominously, but he knows that it’ll hold his weight. Probably. 

(Just to be sure, he lets his legs dangle down, toes just skimming the floor.)

“Thanks,” Scott replies, glancing back over his shoulder with a beaming smile. “How was work?”

“Same as always. Sorry I was late.”

“I meant to have dinner done twenty minutes ago,” Scott shrugs. “I thought I found a tick on Lupe, so I had to check all of him just to be sure.”

“ _Was_ there a tick?” Isaac asks.

“Nope,” Allison laughs softly, fingers absently tangling with Isaac’s on the surface of the table. “Just a few pieces of lint.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Scott says, face just the slightest shade of red, although Isaac thinks that might be more from the steam billowing into his face than embarrassment. “What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing,” Isaac says, nudging the bag further underneath the stool.

“He means it’s a surprise,” Allison says. “We’re not allowed to know until after dinner.”

“I guess I should hurry up then.” Scott tastes the sauce from one pot, winces slightly, and goes back to stirring. “I think this will be a few more minutes. Can you grab plates?”

&.

The butcher block is too small for all three of them to eat at simultaneously, so they end up in the backyard, which is only slightly larger than the front. There’s a glass table set up in the middle of the yard, a single flickering candle in the middle. It’s still a bit of a tight squeeze; their ankles brush together as they shift, and their elbows occasionally collide as they reach for or pass each other food. Lupe doesn’t beg, but every so often, his tongue grazes the back of Isaac’s ankle, making him twitch every time.

Even though the sun is journeying back towards the horizon, it’s still plenty warm out, and there’s not a single cloud in the slowly darkening sky. Isaac doesn’t think it could be a more perfect day.

That just further convinces him that _something_ has to go wrong.

It takes them a while to finish up, but even that doesn’t feel like enough time for him to prepare himself. There’s a war waging in his mind; the logical part says that he _knows_ Allison and Scott will like the first present. It’s something they’ve all discussed, something they’ve dabbled with once or twice. Thinking about it still makes his face flush, but he’s fairly certain that it’ll be greeted warmly.

But as for the other box, the smaller one, the one he’s been agonizing about for ages? 

The logical part of his mind is drowned out by the other parts when it comes to that.

He can only drag out eating for so long; eventually, their plates are entirely clean and the sky is more navy blue and orange than anything else. They carry everything inside, and almost as soon as the last dish has touched the counter, Allison and Scott both dart into the living room, where the bag with his presents is sitting on the floor beside the couch.

“You two aren’t usually this impatient,” he comments, hoping that his nerves aren’t obvious. Thankfully, the ring box is hidden underneath the other, so he can delay it a little longer. “Don’t you want to open your presents from each other first?”

“They can wait a little longer,” Allison says, curling up with her feet underneath her. “I want to see what you got us.”

“Yeah,” Scott agrees, slinging his arm around her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure I know what she got me anyways.”

“Ditto. But I have no idea what you got us.”

“I hope not. Or it wouldn’t be much of a surprise,” Isaac says, carefully pulling the larger box from the bag. A soft clinking comes from underneath the wrapping paper as he sets it in Allison’s lap and sits down beside her. 

“You did a _way_ better job wrapping yours,” Scott says with a laugh, gently tugging at a loose piece of wrapping paper on the corner of the box. “I used newspaper.”

“He used the comics section though, so he got extra points for that,” Allison adds, grabbing the same loose piece and tugging hard. It comes off in a single strip, revealing the plain white surface of the box underneath.

“It’s not a box in a box, is it?” she asks with a raised eyebrow as she tugs off another strip.

“Not unless someone replaced what I bought with something else,” Isaac replies, trying to stop his legs from bouncing up and down. He manages to distract himself for a few moments by scratching Lupe’s head, but after the large dog slinks away to stretch out underneath the coffee table, he turns back to find out that Allison is yanking away the tape holding the lid of the box on. She immediately tosses it to the side, followed by the light blue tissue paper on top, and for a few seconds, Isaac feels like his heart is going to flutter to a stop, logical part of his mind be damned.

Thankfully, after what feels like the longest stretch of his life, both of them look up at him with grins. 

(Isaac is relieved to note that he isn’t the only one with flushed cheeks.)

“Is it alright?” he asks, the words blurting from his mouth. 

“I think it’s even better than the ones we were looking at,” Scott says, gently taking the harness kit from the box. The actual harness itself is purple with black accents, with adjustable straps and a silver o-ring at the front. There’s a tiny pocket at the front to fit the included bullet vibe, and there are two different sized dildos in the bottom of the box, both of them purple as well. It’d taken him hours of research, both on the internet and in person at the cleanest, friendliest sex shop he’d ever seen, to pick out the kit. It’d been expensive, but the straps on it were the softest he’d touched, and the last thing that he’d wanted was for Allison to end up with a rash from chafing fabric.

“Are you sure?” Allison asks, dropping the plastic wrapped bullet vibe back into the box and reaching for his hand. “This is great, but we don’t have to use it right away if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready.”

“We can wait,” Scott adds, smiling crookedly, fingers still pushed through the plastic wrapped around the harness. “For as long as you want.” 

“I’m ready,” Isaac says firmly, a wave of relief flowing over his entire body. If he knows one thing, it’s that he’s ready to take this step, and the fact that Allison and Scott are still willing to wait only affirms that fact. He’d told them about his demisexuality just after high school, back when Scott and Allison were still working things out between them, when he was finally able to find a term that fit his feelings. Both of them had been nothing but supportive, in a way he didn’t think _anyone_ ever would be.

“I’m ready,” he repeats, mouth curling into a smile that he wouldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 

“Okay,” Allison says softly, squeezing his hand tightly. “Let’s go to the bedroom then.”

“I’ll be there in a second,” Scott says, craning over to kiss Allison and Isaac’s interlocked hands. “Just going to make sure Lupe has food and water. Hopefully he won’t interrupt us.”

“Hopefully,” Isaac says, taking the box and letting Allison pull him to his feet. His foot bumps against the gift bag as they head towards the bedroom and he feels the ring box shift slightly.

There’s still the matter of that, but he forces his concerns about that to the back of his mind.

For the time being, he has something else to focus on. Something far more important, at least for the moment.

&.

By the time Scott comes back from feeding Lupe and letting him outside, Isaac’s shirt is on the ground. Allison is on top of him, knees pressing softly against his waist, lithe muscles warm underneath his fingertips. His hands are curled around her hips, splayed against the sides of her lower back, the soft hem of her shirt brushing against his fingers. Her lips feel burning hot where they’re pressed against the side of his neck, pressing hard along his jawline, skating upwards to the spot underneath his ear that makes his mouth drop open.

“Wow,” Scott murmurs, the bed sagging as he crawls beside them. 

“Hmm?” Allison asks, her teeth just barely grazing against Isaac’s pulse point. Isaac moans and drops one of his hands to the bed, reaching across the sheets until he finds Scott’s fingers.

“Nothing,” Scott says, and Isaac opens his eyes just in time to see Scott kissing the back of Allison’s neck. “I just love you. Both of you.” 

“Love you too,” Isaac and Allison reply in sync. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it never fails to make Isaac flush slightly, grateful with the knowledge that he has both of them, that he _knows_ they love him.

There’s not many things he’s certain of, but of that, he’s completely and utterly certain. 

Allison moves further down, until her mouth is pressed to the hollow at the base of his throat. No longer able to reach her hips, he runs his fingers through her hair, falling loose over her shoulders, instead. Scott’s fingers comb Isaac’s hair away from his forehead, running through the curls that are starting to get just a little too long for his tastes. He follows them up with his mouth, pressing against Isaac’s temple, murmuring a low string of Spanish that Isaac recognizes without thinking. 

_You’re beautiful._

After that, he falls into a spiral of sensation. It’s something he’s experienced before, on the other times he’s fallen into bed with the two of them, but it’s not something he’s used to. Frankly, he’s not sure it’s _possible_ to get used to the feeling of both of them touching him at once, the view of them touching each other. Allison’s mouth continues further down his chest until she’s softly mouthing at his hips, teeth occasionally coming out as well. Scott’s hands flit around the two of them; one finger traces down Isaac’s stomach, brushes a piece of Allison’s hair away from her face, continues down the curvature of her spine to the waistband of her jeans. Isaac tries to keep himself grounded and return their affections, tugging Scott down into a kiss that leaves him with flushed skin and swollen lips, gently tugging Allison’s hair in the way that makes her bury a moan against his navel.

“How do we want to do this?” he manages to ask, biting back a curse as Scott thumbs open the button on his jeans. Allison sits back slightly and glances over at Scott. In only a few seconds, they seem to have an entire conversation between them. 

“I can start getting you ready,” Scott says. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I might need some help getting into that,” Allison adds, nodding her head at the box, which is on the pillow beside Isaac’s head. “I think our other one has a few less straps.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Scott continues, pulling down Isaac’s zipper as well. “We always do.”

“Yeah,” Isaac says, once again overwhelmed by sensation, this time more emotional than physical.

Allison slides away to perch on the side of the bed, where she starts tearing off the plastic still wrapped around the kit’s various components. Scott cranes over to kiss Isaac, pulling back only to take off his shirt when Isaac pushes at the hem. 

(Every time he kisses Scott reminds him of the first time, in the back seat of a crowded movie theater, explosions raging across the screen and through the speakers. At the time, he wasn’t sure how things could ever get any better than that single moment.

He’d been so wonderfully wrong.)

“Are you still okay?” Scott asks after Isaac leans back just enough to get a lungful of air. 

“Couldn’t be better,” he answers truthfully, turning his head at the sound of a small thump. Allison has finished taking the plastic off everything and has swept all of it, box included, to the ground, leaving the harness, vibrator and dildos laid out on the sheets.

“I’ll clean that up after,” she says, waving her hand towards the undoubtedly messy floor. “Which one do you want to use?”

Isaac props himself up on his elbows so that he can examine the dildos better. Both of them are light purple and smaller than the few toys he has tucked into his sock drawer at his apartment. He goes with the larger one, poking at the base with one finger. 

“That one.” 

“Sounds good,” Allison says, taking the smaller dildo and tucking it into the top drawer of the bedside table. She exchanges it for a plain, half-empty bottle of lube, which she sets beside the harness before reaching for the hem of her blouse.

“We’re really wearing too many clothes, aren’t we?” Her tongues pokes between her teeth again. Scott grins, and Isaac’s mind goes back to the rings again, sitting on the living room floor. 

He hopes that he can get up the courage to ask, because he wants with everything he has to see those smiles every day, for as long as possible.

The process of undressing dissolves into tangled limbs and more than a few giggles, offset with more bolts of pleasure. When Allison pulls Isaac’s belt from his pants and tosses it across the room, it knocks a book off of her dresser. Allison’s jeans momentarily stay locked around her ankles, no matter how hard they tug, and when Scott pulls off his own pants, both of them laugh at the print on his bright blue boxers.

“Flamingos are cool,” Scott replies, not a single hint of self-consciousness crossing his face. “Besides,” he says to Allison, “you picked these out.” 

“They _are_ cute,” she replies. After a moment, her grin changes to something sharper, and she leans over Isaac to wrap her fingers around Scott’s cock where it’s tenting the soft fabric. “But they should still be on the floor.” Scott’s mouth drops open slightly and he nods, eyes dropping to where her hand is slowly moving up and down. 

The boxers hit the floor only seconds later.

Eventually, with the exception of Allison’s underwear, all of their clothes are either on the floor or dangling off the edge of the bed. Isaac is still very hard and very much wanting, but for the moment, that’s on hold as he and Scott do their best to help Allison into the harness, which is _slightly_ more complicated than Isaac anticipated. She’s lying on her back, one loop pulled up to her knee, the rest all dangling down, bottom lip curled between her teeth.

“I think this will be easier if you’re standing up,” Scott says, gently tugging on one of the clasps. “It definitely needs to be tighter around your waist.” Allison murmurs in agreement and gets to her feet. The loop around her knee falls to the floor, and she starts laughing as she reaches down to pull it up.

“At least once we get this right, we won’t have to adjust it much in the future,” she says thoughtfully. After a few more moments of confusion, the harness ends up in the right position, and Isaac adjusts it until it’s flush against Allison’s waist, just above the lacy band of her underwear.

“Does that feel okay?” he asks, plucking at the line of a strap trailing down her thigh. 

“It’s pretty comfy, actually,” she says, leaning over to kiss him hard. “I’ll figure out the rest. Just relax, okay? Scott’s going to take care of you.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He rolls over onto his stomach and crosses his arms under his head. After a moment, Scott taps gently at his hip.

“Lift up a little bit?” Isaac does, and Scott slides a small pillow underneath his hips. The fabric is a little rough against his cock, but he thinks he’ll be able to deal with it for as long as it takes to prepare him.

“Everything good?” Scott asks, pressing his mouth to the back of Isaac’s neck. Isaac hears rather than sees him thumb the cap off the bottle of lube, and his stomach tightens in anticipation.

“Yeah,” he says, twisting his head out of his crossed arms so that he can see Scott’s face. “I’m good. Promise.” Scott nods and smiles, pressing another kiss against Isaac’s shoulder. 

“Okay. Just let me know if you want us to stop.” A low rumble comes from his other side and when he twists that way, Allison is holding the small, silver bullet vibe between her fingers. 

“That’s way more powerful than I expected,” she says, turning it off and tucking it into the small pocket on the front of the harness. “This was definitely a good purchase.” 

“I hope so,” Isaac replies, trailing off into a gasp when a drop of cold lube hits the back of his thigh.

“Sorry,” Scott says apologetically, lips now hovering halfway down Isaac’s back. “It should warm up soon.”

Isaac has no doubt of that. In the meantime, he opens his legs a little wider and buries his face between his arms, face flushed and warm. He knows there’s no reason for him to feel vulnerable, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling exposed as he cants his hips back towards Scott. Scott presses one last kiss at the base of his spine before replacing it with one of his broad, soft hands. 

“More cold,” he says before trailing one slippery finger up the inside of Isaac’s thigh to his rim. The liquid still has a slight chill to it, but it’s definitely warming up. Scott doesn’t press in for a long string of moments. He simply circles, one hand kneading at Isaac’s back, murmuring words that Isaac can’t quite make out, but the tone is enough for him to get the jist of. 

Just as Isaac has relaxed enough for Scott to slip into the first knuckle, Allison lies down beside him and starts running her fingers through his hair. Her breasts are warm against his side, and as she shifts, the soft silicone of the dildo drags against his hip. 

“Love you,” she says almost absently, fingernails dragging softly down the back of his neck. 

“Love you too,” he says, trailing off into a gasp when Scott presses in a little further. 

By the time Scott has worked his way up to two fingers and the tip of a third, Isaac feels slicked with sweat. His hair is damp against his forehead and the insides of his thighs are sticky with lube. The feeling of Scott’s fingers inside of him is almost _too_ good, but the press of the dildo against his hip reminds him that they need to stop, at least for the moment.

“I’m ready,” he pants against Allison’s neck, where his face has been tucked for the last few moments. Obligingly, Scott pulls out his fingers and shuffles backwards on the bed, squeezing Isaac’s calf as he goes.

“I’m just going to wash my hands. You can start without me.” 

“I think we can wait a few seconds longer,” Allison says, although the tone of her voice seems to suggest otherwise. When she pulls back, Isaac can see that her face is flushed red. Out of curiosity, he trails his fingers up her thigh, to the lowest strap on the harness. After checking in again with the look on her face, he goes further, until the pads of his fingers are pressed against the seam of her underwear. She’s fever-warm, and the fabric is damp; he has no doubt that if he moved a few inches in either direction, his fingertips would come back glistening. Another wave of arousal courses through his own body, faced with the evidence that she really is enjoying this as much as she said she would.

“Do you want to go first?” he asks, trailing up to gently press at her clit through the lacy fabric. “I can wait a little longer.”

“No,” she says firmly, although the way she reaches down and holds his hand against her makes Isaac think that she might be a little conflicted. “This is about you. We _want_ to do this for you.” She bites her bottom lip as Isaac presses once more, but he drops his hand afterwards. His face is definitely flushed again, but arousal is only part of it now. The other part is something deeper that he still hasn’t gotten used to, that he doesn’t think he’ll _ever_ get used to. 

The sheer feeling of being cared for so deeply is almost as overwhelming as a tidal wave. 

Wiping his forehead against his arm, he gets up onto his hands and knees and pushes the pillow aside. As Allison shuffles down the bed to line up between his legs, she trails her fingers down his back, walking them in a way that makes him shiver.

“Sorry.” Her knee bumps against his as she situates herself, and her smaller hands rest against his hips, skimming over the slight protrusion of his bones. 

“Let me know if it doesn’t feel good, or if you want me to stop. Okay?” 

“Will do,” he replies, bracing himself on his elbows because he doesn’t trust his arms to stay steady (even though he _also_ doesn’t trust himself to last very long). Her lips ghost like a butterfly against the middle of his back before the dildo drags up the back of his thigh and brushes against his rim. For a moment, he thinks that he might have to lower himself and put the pillow back under his hips but suddenly, everything slots perfectly into place and he gasps as Allison presses inside of him.

“ _Oh_ ,” she murmurs, and Isaac doesn’t want to call it reverent, doesn’t want to think that highly of himself, but at the very least, she sounds amazed as she slides in a little further, one thumb gently rubbing around where he’s stretched open. “Oh, _wow_.” Another slight gasp comes, this time from Scott, as the bed dips under him once again. 

“You both look so lovely.” When Isaac twists his head back over his shoulder, it’s just enough for him to see Scott pressed against Allison’s back, hands wrapped around her waist, chin tucked over her shoulder. His mouth is hanging open slightly and Isaac doesn’t think he’s ever seen Scott so struck by anything.

He tries to say something to return the sentiment, but he ends up with the air pushed from his chest when Allison finishes sliding all the way in. 

Even though he’s been thinking about this day for literally months now, even though he’s practiced with his own toys and his fingers, even though Allison and Scott have both worked him open more than once, none of that prepares him for how _good_ it feels to finally take this step. Even propped up on his elbows, it’s all he can do to support himself once Allison finds a steady rhythm, hips rolling fluidly against his. When he takes another glance back, twisting as far as he can, he’s nearly bowled over by the sight of her glistening with sweat, harness stark against her pale skin, her bottom lip twisted into her mouth.

And that’s _before_ Scott reaches around and presses the button to activate the bullet vibe. 

Allison’s nails dig into his hips and a moan tumbles from her mouth, in time with Isaac’s. He can feel the vibrations, although surely weaker, coursing through the dildo, and it makes the muscles in his stomach grow tighter. He twists his fingers into the sheets and lets his head hang loose, hair dangling in his eyes. When Scott shifts and starts tracing his fingers up the plane of Isaac’s side, gently stroking over each of his ribs, Isaac has to screw his eyes shut. Each individual touch feels like a miniature, contained explosion under his skin. He doesn’t think it should be possible for something to feel so good, but every time that thought appears in his mind, something else occurs that shoves it right back out. 

It doesn’t take long for him to be panting, legs spread wide, thighs and forearms trembling from holding himself up. Allison’s thrusts have grown slightly more erratic, but between the vibrations, the brush of the dildo against his prostate and Scott’s sheer attentiveness, he barely manages to gasp out a warning before he comes against his stomach, forehead braced against the bed, groping out with one hand until he finds Scott’s fingers to squeeze. Scott squeezes back while brushing Isaac’s hair back with his other hand, murmuring words that Isaac only half-understands in his current state. 

After a few moments, when his breath has come back to him and his muscles decide that they’re sick of holding him up, he asks Allison to pull out. When she clicks off the buzzing vibrator, the room feels too silent. He manages to roll onto his back before he collapses, but there’s still come on the sheets and smeared across his stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Allison asks, voice close to a pant herself. 

“I’m great,” Isaac manages to say. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so sweaty in his life, and in about twenty minutes, he knows that he’s going to feel absolutely disgusting but in the meantime, he genuinely can’t remember ever feeling so _good_ , in both body and soul. “I think it’s your turn now.”

“Can I?” Scott asks from where he’s sitting, propped up on his elbows. His cock is still flushed and hard, jutting towards his stomach, damp at the tip. 

“Can I ride your face?” Allison asks, already yanking at the straps on the harness. Scott nods rapidly and leans back, roughly shoving a pillow underneath his head. Isaac reaches over to attempt to help Allison with her straps but she seems to have the situation under control; she steps off the bed long enough to shove her underwear and the harness to the floor, but not before removing the tiny vibrator from the small pocket. 

“Ready?” she asks, sliding back on the bed with an inordinate amount of grace for someone who looks ready to teeter over the edge. 

“Come here, _please_ ,” Scott asks, reaching out for her. Isaac shifts over and up, so that he has a better view. Allison doesn’t waste any more time; she slides up Scott’s body and braces her knees on either side of his head. One of her hands wraps around the headboard while the other flicks the button on top of the vibrator, turning it back on. As soon as she lowers herself to Scott’s mouth, Scott’s hands go to her ass, pulling her down even closer. The slick sounds of Scott’s tongue against her, mixed in with the buzzing of the vibrator and Allison’s moans, combine to form the loveliest thing Isaac has ever heard. 

Once he feels sufficiently recovered enough to do more than just enjoy the view, he slides back down the bed and slowly wraps one hand around Scott’s dick. It twitches against his palm, just as Scott lets out a muffled groan and drops one hand from Allison’s hand to loosely reach for Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac simply grins, presses a kiss against Scott’s knuckles and goes back to what he was doing, finding a steady rhythm that makes Scott bury more groans against Allison’s clit. 

Allison doesn’t take long to fall apart. Even without having his mouth on her, Isaac can tell when it happens. She tosses her head back and her hair streams down the taut length of her spine. Scott’s name falls from her lips and her rolling hips stutter once, twice, three times. Isaac tries to keep his hand moving in the same steady pattern, but he definitely falters. It’s impossible not to, when he’s seeing a sight that looks like it should be in a museum.

(Maybe an X-rated museum, but still. Definitely museum worthy.)

Once Allison slumps over, head dropping towards Scott. She flicks the vibrator off again, drops it into the bedside table and rolls off Scott to kneel beside Isaac. She presses a kiss against Isaac’s cheek before dropping her forehead against his shoulder, body warm and flushed.

“Want me to help?” she asks, dropping one finger to trail through the drying mess on his stomach.

That’s almost enough to make him be ready for another round.

“I think you deserve a rest,” he says, twisting to kiss her forehead before leaning over to press his mouth against Scott’s stomach. She murmurs something indecipherable before curling up beside him, wedged against Scott’s side, slowly mouthing against his neck.

It isn’t much longer before Scott joins them as well, tipping over the edge with a wordless groan, fingers wrapped in the sheets and around the curve of Allison’s thigh. Isaac looks around for something to wipe his hand off with, and when that doesn’t work out, he presses a kiss to Scott’s side and scrambles over him and off the bed. 

“I’ll be right back.”

Scott murmurs something, and Allison gives him a slow nod, long limbs spread across the bed. Isaac finds his boxers on the floor and awkwardly tugs them up with his cleaner hand of the two. He walks down the hallway to the bathroom, washes up (although he _definitely_ still needs a shower) and grabs two damp washcloths and some tissues for Allison and Scott. On his way back, he stops in front of the entrance of the living room and looks across to the couch. The slightly crumpled plastic bag is still sitting on the floor, and even though he can’t see the lump of the ring box, he can feel it in his mind, a reminder threatening to pull him across the room. 

He doesn’t bother fighting it. Maybe his mind is still a little orgasm-scrambled, or maybe it’s something else, but what he does know is that if he doesn’t gather the rings up now, he’s going to lose his courage for weeks. Maybe even months.

He switches all of the clean-up supplies into one of his hands and tucks the ring box into the palm of the other. He doesn’t have a speech or anything planned; the rings had been grandiose enough. But he still hopes that Allison and Scott will remain distracted enough for a few moments, just long enough to allow him to come up with a short something, even if it’s little more than the words _Would you marry me? Both of you?_

When he comes back into the bedroom, both Allison and Scott look a little more awake. They’ve stripped the sheets from the bed and they’re speaking in low voices, noises bumping against each other, wearing matching grins and nothing else. Isaac squeezes in between them and hands them both a washcloth, tucking the hand holding the box into his lap. 

“How are you feeling?” Allison asks once she’s cleaned herself up. There are slight red marks around her hips matching the straps of the harness, but when he brushes his thumb over one with a questioning eyebrow, she smiles and takes his hand instead.

“It’s nothing. I think we just need to loosen the straps a little.” 

“Maybe a little,” Scott says with a slight frown, glancing over the edge of the bed at where the harness is lying in a tangle on top of their mixed pile of clothes. “I’ll clean that up after. But yeah, are you alright? Was that good?” 

“Good isn’t quite the word I’d use,” Isaac says with a laugh, sliding even closer to them, until their legs are all touching. “Amazing might be better.”

“Awesome,” Scott replies, huffing out a quiet laugh of his own as he sits up and wraps one arm around Isaac’s waist. “I’m so glad.”

“Me too,” Allison says, squeezing in closer and kissing Isaac’s temple. Her lips linger for a moment, but they’re replaced by her forehead as she looks down. Isaac glances down as well and his stomach churns slightly when he realizes that the box is easily visible through his fingers. 

“What’s that?” she asks, running her fingers gently over his. 

He inhales deeply and releases his tight grip. He supposes there’s no better time like the present.

“It’s another anniversary present for you two,” he says slowly, straightening out his fingers and raising his hand, so that the box is sitting in the middle of his palm. “It might be too soon, but it doesn’t have to commit us to anything. I mean, we _can’t_ really commit to anything, legally, but…” He realizes that he’s starting to ramble like Stiles, and if he doesn’t put a cork in it soon, he isn’t likely to stop anytime soon. So he shuts his mouth and pops open the lid with his thumb. The three bands catch the light, and for a few moments, he wonders whether he should have gone with slightly less reflective rings, or maybe bands with a few stones set in them.

But it’s far too late for that now, so instead, he takes another deep breath and lets it whoosh out in the form of two words.

“Marry me?” 

Over the last few weeks, he’s run all sorts of possible reactions through his mind; good, bad, terrible, totally neutral (it’d been the last that had hurt the most.) But in all of those scenarios, there’d been at least a few seconds of stunned silence, a few moments where the room was quiet enough to hear his blood pounding in his ears. 

But that stunned silence never comes. He’s barely closed his mouth when Allison sits up on her knees and presses her mouth hard against his. She does it over and over again, and he can feel her smiling as she does it. It’s definitely a contagious action; even before Scott tightens his arm around his waist and presses smiling kisses of his own against Isaac’s neck, Isaac feels himself mirroring the expression. 

“Yes, yes, of course.” 

He isn’t sure who’s saying it, or if _both_ of them are saying it, but all he knows is that something warm is spreading through his entire chest, seeping into the curves of his rib cage and the hollows of his lungs. It’s not a totally foreign feeling but he’s never felt it in such an all-encompassing, almost overwhelming way. 

Love. Pure and simple.

At some point, he falls back on the bed, swarmed by smiles and kisses and hugs. When he’s finally able to sit up, he realizes that during the chaos, both of them have slid their rings on, gleaming on their respective index fingers.

“Your turn,” Scott says, taking the last ring from the box and sliding it home. The metal is still cold, and it fits perfectly, snug enough that he won’t lose it but not tight enough to cut off his circulation.

He’s never been much of a ring or jewelry person, but he can’t imagine taking it off anytime soon. 

“Dessert,” Allison says. “There’s cheesecake in the fridge. I think this is a cheesecake occasion.” She kisses both of them on the cheek and slides off the bed. She grabs a clean pair of underwear from the dresser and takes one of Scott’s t-shirts from the floor. When she leaves the room, she’s still in the process of pulling it over her head.

“Hey,” Scott says, wrapping his hand around Isaac’s. Their two rings clink together softly. “You’re sure about this? You’re not just doing this because-“

“I’m sure,” Isaac says firmly, squeezing Scott’s hand. “More sure than I’ve ever been of anything, really.” 

“Okay. So are we.” Scott leans forward and catches him in a lingering kiss, tongue just barely brushing against Isaac’s bottom lip. By the time he pulls away, Isaac is surer than ever that he’s made the right choice. 

“I’m just going to get a bit cleaned up.” He gives Isaac one last peck before pulling on a clean pair of boxers, basketball shorts and a striped cardigan that might have been Allison’s at one point in time. It’s a slightly ridiculous outfit, but Isaac wishes that he could take a photo to memorialize it. 

Allison comes back a few moments later with her hair pulled back in a bun, holding three plates of cheesecake. The matching forks are clamped between her teeth and when she sets the plates down, she wipes the handles on her shirt.

“Sorry. Didn’t feel like making another trip.”

“Doesn’t bother me any,” Isaac remarks, taking a bite of the cheesecake and almost immediately groaning happily. Not only is it cheesecake, it’s Melissa McCall’s cheesecake, which is quite possibly the most delicious thing Isaac has ever tasted.

This whole evening has gone better than he ever could have imagined. 

“We’re going to have to write this in the anniversary book,” Scott says when he comes back in. “Although this might be easier to remember since it’s on the same day as ours.” 

“You have an anniversary book?” Isaac asks. 

“Well, it’s not really a _book_ ,” Allison replies, setting her cheesecake aside and reaching into the top drawer of the bedside table. Underneath the bottles of lubes and condoms is a small journal, which she yanks out and flips open. “It’s just one page in the book of important stuff. Passwords, birthdays, stuff like that. Here.” She flips to a page near the middle and hands him the book. Sure enough, the entire list is there, the dates of all the times the three of them (and the combinations within) had gotten together.

“I’m going to need a copy of this,” Isaac laughs, handing the book back to Allison. 

“Deal,” Scott says, kissing Isaac on the cheek with slightly sticky lips. Isaac buries a grin into another mouthful of cheesecake. 

Now that he has a reliable way to remember all the dates, polyamory is officially far less complicated than he ever would have imagined.

Indeed, he concludes as he glances back at both of his lovers, it might be the easiest, most natural feeling part of his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> bonus fact: the harness kit is based on [this](https://venusenvy.ca/bend-over-beginner-kit) product.
> 
> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
